“We’re in public,” I point out, glancing through the windows at the other cars in the parking lot. Most are empty, but there’s still the prison guard in the distance, standing outside the back gate where they released Damon.
In response, Damon leans over to turn up the heater, so the windows begin to fog. “Your point?” he asks, grinning wider.
“You’re dangerous,” I whisper, leaning back down to nip at his neck as I reach between my legs to grab the buckle of his jeans and start to undo them slowly. I can already feel the hard press of his cock straining beneath me.
“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Damon pushes my dress up over my hips to expose my bare ass to the world. Because, of course, I forewent panties again today. One last panty-free prison visit for the road.
He chuckles softly at finding me bare, and bites my shoulder, just hard enough to make me gasp. His fingers slide between us, spreading my pussy lips, as he starts to stroke my slit slowly, building the pressure inside my belly. I finish undoing his jeans and wriggle them down his hips, only to find him bare as well, no boxers beneath.
“I took a page out of your book, dirty girl,” he says with a smirk.
I grin and catch him in another long kiss, even as my fingers slide around his cock and start to stroke his long, velvety length. He’s already rock hard for me, and the feeling of his hard length, knowing that I have this effect on him, only makes me wetter.
He rolls his thumb across my clit, and I gasp into his mouth, which makes him laugh, a low, throaty sound that sets off a thunderstorm in my chest. “I love how wet you are for me, Ashley.”
“I love how hard you are for me,” I reply, sliding my hands along him, up and down, savoring his width, already picturing how it will feel when he spreads my pussy wide and thrusts his thick cock inside me.
“Tell me, how have you been spending your nights away from me?” He grips my hips, draws me down toward him, until my pussy is poised at the tip of his cock. I groan with want, but he doesn’t enter me, not yet. He starts to slowly stroke back and forth along my slit, coating the tip of his cock in my juices, pressing just hard enough that I can feel him almost, almost inside me, and it drives me wild with lust. “Have you been thinking about my cock? Wanting me to fuck you again?”
“Every night,” I confess, my voice a breath against his cheek.
He grins and bites at the edge of my jawline, right where it meets my neck. Hard enough to leave a mark this time. Hard enough to mark me as his. “Good. Do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
I swallow hard. Nod, just a little.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
I lean back to catch his eye, and cast another glance around us at the car windows. But they’re completely foggy now, the heat inside the car competing with the air outside to shield us from the public view, at least a little bit. Still, if anyone walked too close, peered through the fog, curious about what was happening inside this idling car…
I decide I don’t care. Fuck it. A prison guard nearly walked in on me naked with this man—how much worse could it get? Besides, there’s something a little… exciting about knowing that we could get caught at any moment. So I lean back from Damon and slide one hand down the flat plane of my stomach, until my fingers are gliding across my shaven mound, and spreading my pussy lips.
He drinks me in with that hungry, insatiable stare of his that only makes this moment hotter. “You are so fucking sexy, Ashley,” he murmurs.
I grin as I circle my finger around my clit, pressing just hard enough to make it ache with want. “I’ve been doing this every night, Damon. Touching myself, and wishing it was you. Remembering all the things you did to me in that visitation room…”
He slides a hand up to grip his cock, and starts to stroke himself as well, eyes still locked on me. “Every night in my bunk, I thought about that sexy, tight little pussy of yours. I thought about fucking you on top of me, your big tits bouncing. I thought about pinning you against the wall and taking what I want from you.”
I gasp a little as my fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. My head tilts back, though I try to keep my gaze locked on his, as I finger myself faster now. “I think about your big cock inside me, how you make me stretch and ache so fucking good.”
“I think about bending you across the desk of my bunk and fucking you from behind. Filling you with my cum, and feeling your pussy tighten around me when you come, the way your voice gets so sexy when you scream.” His hand moves faster, pumping the length of his thick shaft. It’s so sexy to watch him get himself off—to know he did this every night while he thought about me. To know that I drive him this wild.
My breath hitches, and I slide one finger inside my pussy, feeling how wet I am, how close to the edge. I’m nearing it, about to climax…
When Damon grabs my hands and pins them behind me in a single fist. I gasp in protest at first, but that quickly shifts into a long, drawn-out moan as he pulls me forward, onto his lap, and presses his cock against my pussy once more. This time he doesn’t tease. He’s too hungry for me. The same way I ache for him.
He pushes the tip of his cock between my lips, thrusting into my pussy inch by inch. I cry out at the sensation of him filling me so completely, stretching my walls wide as they accommodate his girth. He doesn’t stop drawing me down onto him until he’s fully inside me, his cock buried deep in my pussy. My clit, already swollen with want from both my ministrations and his, presses against his hip bones when I lean forward, and sets off a wildfire in my nerves.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, you dirty girl.”
It doesn’t take long, with him thrusting up into me, and pulling me down against him at the same time, for that pressure to build toward a peak. Damon starts to move faster, fucking me harder, and I gasp and twist against him as his cock thrusts deep into me with each motion. He tilts his hips, angles himself so the head of his cock drags against my front inner wall, and with one last cry, I start to come, twisting on top of him.
But Damon is far from finished with me.
“God you’re so sexy when you scream.” He reaches up to yank off my dress, his fingers deftly undoing my bra before I can move. It falls between us, and he tosses it aside with a growl. He lifts both hands to grip my breasts and leans in to circle his tongue around first one nipple, then the other, making them harden beneath his warm, wet mouth. He bites down gently on my breast, just below the nipple, and I gasp at the mingled sensations of pain and pleasure. “I’m going to make you come over and over, until you can’t even think straight…”
He keeps thrusting into me, so hard it makes my breasts bounce against his face, and with his other hand, he caresses my mound, thumb just barely grazing my sensitive clit, though pressing hard enough to make me come again before I can even catch my breath from the first orgasm.
“That’s it, dirty girl. Come again for me, come hard…”
I lose count of how many times I come on top of him, caught between the sensations of his cock thrusting over my G-spot and his fingers caressing my clit. The orgasms blend together into one hot rush of pleasure in my memory, and then, eventually, I feel Damon start to tense under me. I arch my back and rock my hips against him harder, as he nears his own peak. He comes with a growl, his hot juices coating my pussy, dripping down my legs onto his thighs, and making us both gasp.
“Fuck, you were hungry,” I murmur into his neck with a faint laugh. He grins and nips my ear, then kisses his way along my jawline to catch my mouth in another long, slow, burning hot kiss.
“For you? Always.” His dark eyes snag mine as he says that, promising that he means it with every fiber of his being.
At that moment, someone knocks on the now thoroughly fogged windows. I gasp and grab for my shirt, while he laughs and shields me with his body, pulling me tight against him.
“Come on, what did I ask you two to do?” calls the prison guard through the window, though at least he has the decency not to wi
pe away the fog. “Get a room, not a ticket in this parking lot.”
We both laugh faintly, and Damon gazes down at my face with a sly smile. “Well, this is familiar.”
“We’re starting to make a habit of getting caught at this, aren’t we?” I grin back, and pull my dress on, trying to turn my mess of a body into some semblance of normalcy, for at least as long as it will take me to drive him home with me.
By the time I slide back into the driver’s seat and wipe the fog clear from the windows, the guard is back at his post, though he eyes us across the lot with a narrowed glare. I wave cheerfully as we pull out of the parking lot, and I swear I catch him rolling his eyes in the rearview as we pull away.
“One question,” Damon asks, as we reach the stoplight down at the bottom of the prison exit.
I expect him to ask where we’re going, or what the plan is. The truth is, right now I don’t have one. The police are still cleaning out Dad’s files, but they’ve finished with the bedroom wing at least, and told me I can continue staying there as long as I don’t interfere with their investigation in the rest of the house—which I have no intention of doing, clearly. The more dirt they can find on my father, the better. He deserves to spend the rest of his miserable life behind bars for what he’s done.
So my loose plan was, take Damon home. The rest, we can figure out from there. Together. At least, that’s what I’m thinking. I don’t know that he’s thinking the same.
So I tighten my fists on the steering wheel, prepared for whatever he’s about to ask me.
But all Damon says is, “What happened to the money?”
My mouth quirks a little into a faint smile. “I gave it to Mrs. Brown,” I say. Then I cast a sideways glance at him, nervous again. “Was that wrong?”
But he’s smiling wider than ever now, relief evident in his eyes. “No, Ashley.” He catches one of my hands, draws it off the steering wheel so he can kiss the back of my hand. Then he spreads my fingers, turns it over and kisses my palm too. “That’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have done.”
I smile and relax into the seat. “Good. Now, about tonight. I was thinking…”
“Would you mind if I stayed with you?” Damon blurts, before I can even propose it.
I laugh, any remaining tension I was still carrying flooding out of my shoulders. “I was just about to ask if you wanted to.”
“Of course I do. I’m with you, Ashley Marrón.” He tightens his grip on my hand, and I squeeze right back. “Wherever you want to lead, I’ll follow.”
We share one last grin before I pull onto the highway toward the house. “Then let’s go clean up our acts, Damon Tell.”
Epilogue
I pull up to the house in my squad car, and sit there for a moment to just stare. It’s been six months, yet part of me still can’t believe how complete of a 180 my life has taken since the day Ashley Marrón first sauntered into my jail cell.
We’re still living in Ashley’s father’s old house—though she’s gutted just about everything but the foundation to completely remake it in her own style. Now, instead of imposing guards out front, I’m greeted by Hop, our enormous golden retriever, straining at his leash to reach me as I climb out of the police car.
That’s right. I’m a cop now. Talk about a full role reversal. But once Ashley and I got my record expunged, and I sat down to talk with a career counselor about my options, the right fit was staring me right in the face. I knew the ugly side of life. I knew how bad things could get when you were down and out on your luck.
I knew the ugly side of the police force too, the guys who took it out on even the prisoners who were in for nonviolent crimes, just because they were angry at the system. And I knew how much of a difference I could make joining up—catching the real bad guys, men like Ashley’s father who believed they were above the law, and helping out the poor sods like I used to be, the nobodies who get caught in the middle of powerful men’s games.
A few weeks of training, then a couple months in academy, and here I am now, with a badge on my chest and a whole new outlook on life. And I have Ashley to thank for that—for all of this. She’s never once wavered in her belief in me, and that only makes me want to work harder to be the man she needs. The right man, the one who will choose the right path, even when it’s hard.
I scratch Hop’s ear, then laugh as he jumps up on me, and tussle with him a little on my walk toward the door. “In a few minutes, boy,” I call over my shoulder when he whines, clearly ready for his afternoon walk. But he’ll have to wait a moment. I’ve got my number one to go greet first.
“Ashley?” I elbow open the front door, carrying the groceries she asked me to grab for dinner slung over one arm.
“In here,” she replies, her voice distant. I pause long enough to drop the supplies off in the kitchen, then wind through the house. I stop dead at the foot of the grand staircase, and chuckle softly under my breath. Because right there at the foot of the steps is a clue as to where my afternoon is heading.
A single pair of red panties is draped across the first step.
It reminds me of that first meeting. The first time I saw her, the first time I knew, viscerally, on animal instinct, that I needed to have this woman. Her scent, on the soaking wet panties she threw at my lap, drove me wild for days afterward. Now, just like I did then, I bend to scoop up the panties, and grin as I inhale her sharp, sweet scent. The smell I’ll never get enough of.
“Are you coming?” she calls, her voice taunting, teasing.
“Oh, you’ll know when I am,” I reply as I start up the steps, reaching for the top button of my uniform. My uniform pants already feel tight, as my cock grows hard at the thought of her spread-eagled across our big king-sized bed.
At the top of the steps, I find another garment. This one is her bra, the black lace one I love to peel off her tits so much, because it cups them to perfection. My smile widens. I start toward the bedroom. Hung on the doorknob is the same sexy little tight pencil skirt she wore the first time we met. The first time she walked into the prison and stole my self-control.
I’m harder than ever now at the memory. I’m thinking about that first time I touched her, when I peeled her skirt up and spread her legs on that tiny little cot of a bed to bury my face in her sweet pussy.
“Ashley?” I turn the knob and open the bedroom door. But I expected her to be on the bed. Instead, I just see the final item of clothing, the tight dress she wore the last time she visited me—the visit that changed everything. The day I decided to trust her, and then she blew me away with how much she could accomplish.
Not to mention the way she actually blew me. Those tight lips clamped around my cock sent me spiraling higher than anyone else has ever managed to get me with their tongue alone.
I step into the room, and only then do I hear the sound. A faint splash from the bathroom. I grin and finish removing my uniform shirt. I drop it onto the bedroom floor, followed by my pants, only my boxers remaining, as I stride into the bathroom.
Ashley is in the bathtub, arms spread across the sill, bubbles filling the water. Hiding that perfect, sexy little body of hers from view. But not for long.
“To what do I owe this delight?” I ask, smirking as I strip off my boxers as well.
“Can’t a lady decide she wants to entertain her man in style?” Ashley tilts her head to one side and pushes off the wall to kneel. That motion lifts her breasts above the surface of the water, coating them in bubbles.
I step into the tub beside her. Sink to my knees in the warm water, and trace my hands down both sides of her neck. Over her shoulders, down the gentle curve of her arms, to trail my fingertips back up over her breasts. “I’m not complaining,” I tell her, leaning in to trail my lips up the side of her neck.
She sighs and leans closer to me, folding her arms around my body. I trace my hands down her sides, until I can cup her tight little ass and pull her up and against me in the water. She gasps, that faint, sexy sound that I
love, when my hard cock grazes her inner thigh. It makes me tense with desire, makes my cock jump along her inner thigh, since I’m already rock hard with desire.
I take my time with her. Touch and tease her everywhere, my hands exploring her body the way I always love to do. I wait until she’s practically panting with desire, until her pussy feels warm and wet, even through the bath water, when I cup my fingers underneath her to caress her slit.
Only then do I draw her up out of the bath. Step up to the cool tile wall of the bathroom.
“Going to have your way with me, Mr. Tell?” Ashley whispers.
I grin and grab her ass, harder this time. Lift her thigh until she wraps one leg around my waist. At that angle, it’s easy for me to position the tip of my cock against her pussy. I arch my hips, run the tip between her pussy lips, up and down her slit. “Fuck yes, Ms. Marrón. I plan on having my way with you again and again…” With that, I grab her ass in both hands and lift her off the ground.
She gasps a little in surprise, but quickly wraps her other leg around my waist too, her hands gripping my shoulders for support. I pin her against the wall, and in one rough motion, thrust into her.
“You like that?” I murmur against her ear. “You like it when I take what I want from you?”
“Fuck yes,” she says, a smile on her mouth. “I love it rough.”
“Careful what you wish for,” I warn her with a rogue grin. Then I pull her against me, her back arching to grant me better access, as I start to thrust into her. Before long, I’m moving hard and fast, fucking her against the wall, loving the way her tight pussy contracts around my thick cock, savoring all the little moans and gasps she makes as I work her up toward her first climax. When she’s close, I pull her against me and turn, walking her toward the shower. Her legs clamp tighter around me as she holds on, her hips bucking in frustration at the climax I just denied her.
Big Bad Boys: A Romance Collection Page 7
